The Dark

by Marianne Curley

  She stops. ‘Don’t tell me Ethan’s right when he says there’s nothing you don’t know?’

  ‘There’s a lot I don’t know, such as what exactly your new power is.’

  She sighs wistfully. ‘I think I’m experiencing psychic visions, or something like that.’

  ‘Are these visions of the future? Or of the past?’

  She seems surprised by my questions. ‘So both are possible, huh?’

  ‘Yes. And when you’ve evolved this skill, you’ll be surprised what you can do with it.’

  ‘How do you mean?’ she asks.

  ‘You may be able to project your own images and issue warnings; one day, perhaps even heal.’

  ‘Wow. Well right now I have to admit these visions are a little scary. I don’t know how to control them, and they can be painful like you wouldn’t believe. They hit without warning – anywhere, anytime.’

  ‘So how many have you had?’

  An opening appears in the wall before us, and as we near it, ready to leap into the past, she turns just slightly. ‘I think I’ve had two. The first was that powerful storm only seconds before it happened. And last night I saw Ethan’s mother trying to kill herself.’

  She goes to leap, but I grab her arm. ‘Show me.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Recall the vision and don’t try to block your thoughts.’

  She closes her eyes and the vision unfolds for my viewing. When it is over, she leaves me with my thoughts and silently leaps.

  I drop behind her on to a well-worn dirt road, outside a stone wall with high wooden gates. The time appears to be early dawn. And even while I’ve made many time-journeys before, I still experience a moment of intense excitement and relief, when the leap is successful.

  While we straighten our clothes and gather our bearings, I can’t get Isabel’s graphic vision out of my mind. Ethan, my Apprentice since he was a child of four years, has seen so much in his life. Ever since his sister was murdered by Marduke, he’s lived with a seriously depressed mother. While his father was unable to help, he took on the huge responsibility of caring for her. Ethan has had an uneasy life, full of fear and sadness and feelings of utter helplessness. He coped. And coped well. But he’s only human. How much more can he take?

  Before we go any further I lay my hand on Isabel’s arm. ‘All those years as Ethan’s Trainer I’ve watched him suffer, but couldn’t do anything to help.’

  She glances into my face. Time and motion cease to exist.

  Then she says, ‘No one could, Arkarian. Does anybody know why Laura’s depression has gone on for so long? Or why she isn’t getting any better?’

  ‘Losing a child, no matter how long ago, can’t be easy. But the fact that Laura is getting worse, has me thinking there’s something else stopping her from moving past her grief. Something that’s keeping her constantly on edge.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘I don’t know. It’s just a theory. But what does worry me is how Ethan will cope. Does he know about your vision?’ We push through the gates and make our way past several small wattle-and-daub cottages to the castle up ahead.

  ‘He does, and he’s really worried.’

  ‘Try to reassure him, Isabel, that everything will be all right.’

  ‘He thinks saving his mother will be as simple as stopping her from going to the sanatorium.’

  Is it possible to avert a tragedy by simply stopping a person from being in the place at the time they’ve been seen to take their own life? ‘I think we need to find the cause of Laura’s continuing anxiety.’

  ‘But how?’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to stop working on this problem until I’ve figured out what’s wrong. I promise.’

  ‘You have to hurry, Arkarian. There are only ten days until Laura goes to this place.’

  ‘Yes. And a lot can happen in ten days.’

  Chapter Five

  Isabel

  Arkarian doesn’t know who this six-year-old French girl is in relation to history, or where the danger is going to come from. And he doesn’t know why this girl’s life is so important that the Immortal commanded Arkarian be part of this mission right at the last minute. All we know is that this child won’t live past her sixteenth year. The year she falls pregnant and gives birth. Arkarian can’t find anything on the child she bears either. It’s as if the baby is raised by the pixies.

  Well, I never did fully believe what Ethan takes as sacred – that Arkarian knows everything. And thankfully I’ve learned to mask my thoughts from him, even though sometimes it’s a struggle. If I didn’t, I would be in a fine mess. My thoughts have been anything but decent. And when our eyes meet, I swear, it’s like there’s no oxygen in the room. But something else is happening that I can’t quite figure out. It’s really weird. A seed has taken root in my stomach. A seed of fear. It’s like there’s a clock counting down the time we have together.

  I put these thoughts aside while I concentrate on how best to protect this child. Her name is Charlotte, and she’s the only daughter (the only child in fact) of a Duke and Duchess. Unfortunately, last year the Duchess passed away with a wasting disease, and now the child is lonely and depressed. She has an aunt, her mother’s sister, Lady Eleanor, who greets me at the entrance to the keep. She takes a good look at me from head to toe, and then at Arkarian, who remains a little way behind me. With a tight nod, she invites me inside, shutting the door in Arkarian’s face.

  ‘What happened to your carriage? Why did you arrive on foot, with only that stable-hand for company?’ she snaps.

  Behind us, the Duke himself appears. He makes a sarcastic scoffing sound. From what I learned earlier, the Duke spends a lot of time at court in the King’s company. Or on the battlefield leading the royal troops. And from the look Lady Eleanor gives him, I’m guessing it’s not just the Duke’s daughter who finds his absences lengthy.

  ‘Why do you have to be suspicious of everyone who wears a skirt in my company?’

  I have to be careful not to laugh outright at the Duke’s words. Apparently I’m not the only one who’s aware of Lady Eleanor’s longings.

  ‘My carriage was set upon by thieves,’ I explain. ‘Everything except the clothes on my back was stolen or destroyed. That stable-hand helped me find my way. His name is Gascon.’

  The Duke’s hand gestures towards me. ‘There you are, Eleanor. Are you satisfied?’

  He’s bitter, but his attitude is not my concern. It’s the girl I’m here to worry about. ‘When shall I meet the young lady?’ I ask.

  The Duke raises his eyebrows at Lady Eleanor, who runs up a nearby flight of stairs. Her departure fills the spacious hall with the most awkward silence, as the Duke stares out of a window to the courtyard beyond, content to say nothing.

  ‘Excuse me, my lord, may I ask where I shall be staying?’

  He taps his finger repeatedly on the stone ledge before him. I wonder if he’s going to bother replying. Eventually he turns his head, ‘No doubt Eleanor will have organised a chamber for you.’ He waves dismissively at Arkarian outside. ‘The boy can go to the stables. Old François will show him where he can stay.’

  He looks away, discouraging further conversation. Lady Eleanor returns with the Duke’s daughter and my attention quickly re-focuses. Charlotte seems small for her age, and thin, with pale skin, huge blue eyes, and a mop of blonde ringlets. I fall in love with her on sight, feeling drawn to this beautiful child with the sorrowful eyes and small down-turned mouth. I get on my knees to be at her height. ‘Hello, Miss Charlotte.’

  She answers me with nothing but a drooping head and silence, her thumb tucked into her mouth. She rocks on her heels and looks to the stairway.

  Take it slowly, I tell myself, and try again. ‘My name is Phillipa, and I’m going to be your—’ I don’t finish my words as my attention is seized by a series of thumping sounds coming from behind her. I look across and find myself staring straight into the eyes of a large dog, a Great Dane, easily the
largest I’ve ever seen.

  I jump up, my first instinct to run. But Charlotte calls to it excitedly, and the animal prances over, tail wagging. Charlotte then folds her body across the dog’s broad back, giving it a loving embrace and muttering sweet nothings into one of its rigid, upright ears. The dog turns its massive head and begins enthusiastically licking the girl’s face and arm.

  ‘Oh for pity’s sake, do something, Adrian,’ Lady Eleanor moans dramatically.

  The Duke drags himself from the window, takes one look at the dog and his daughter embracing, then turns his palms outwards. ‘The animal makes her happy. God knows nothing else around here does.’

  The Duke smiles at me sadly. ‘The beast accompanies my daughter everywhere. You’ll have to win him over before you get close to Charlotte.’

  Minutes later Lady Eleanor shows me to my room upstairs, Charlotte and her dog trailing behind us. ‘I’m sure you’ll be comfortable in here, the likes of this chamber I doubt you’ve ever seen before.’

  My eyes do a broad take of the room. It certainly is spacious and elegantly furnished, with beautiful oak panelling. Two sets of mullioned windows overlook a courtyard below, an exquisitely hand-carved desk separating them. A door leads to Charlotte’s bedchamber, while a painted bench adorns the wall to the right. A king-size bed, with four posts that are fixed to the ceiling, sits on a raised platform jutting out from the opposite wall. A beautiful tapestry hangs above it. I go over for a closer look.

  ‘Mama made it,’ a little voice informs me from behind. ‘She loved to stitch.’

  When I turn around Lady Eleanor is walking out of the door, leaving me alone with Charlotte. I point to the dog. ‘What’s his name?’

  ‘Papa says it should be Horse.’

  ‘Hmm, I wonder why?’ I mutter beneath my breath.

  Charlotte drops to her knees and gives the dog another of her trusting embraces. She rests her head on its massive chest. ‘But I call him King Charles, in honour of our king. Don’t you think he looks like a monarch?’

  ‘He does indeed.’ But thoughts of King Charles, or any king, soon disappear as Arkarian – or I should say, Gascon – walks in and stands by the door. He addresses me politely.

  ‘Pardon, my lady. Lady Eleanor says it is time for your ride.’ Charlotte nods happily and begins looking for her gloves and riding whip. The dog follows her like a shadow.

  ‘What do you think we should do with him?’ I whisper.

  ‘Well, his instincts would be to protect the girl. That can’t be bad.’ Arkarian walks over to the dog, bends down and strokes it behind one of its pointy ears. ‘He seems friendly enough.’

  ‘The Duke says I’ll need permission from him to get close to Charlotte.’

  Charlotte hears and giggles, giving Arkarian a sideways glance. I introduce him as Gascon. The dog suddenly moves and, instinctively, I step back.

  Arkarian laughs. ‘You don’t look comfortable. Is your sixth sense telling you something?’ he adds in a whisper. ‘Or are you just not good with animals?’

  I think about this for a minute. At my Initiation last year I was endowed with many gifts from the Lords and Ladies of the Tribunal. But it was the head of the Tribunal – Lorian – who gave me the gift of enlightenment of my sixth sense. I shrug, because sometimes it’s not clear whether it’s my sixth sense, or simply fear. ‘The only thing I’m sure of, is that I’m not good with animals with sharp teeth.’

  Arkarian looks around the room. ‘Is that her bedroom over there?’ he says softly.

  I nod and Arkarian frowns thoughtfully. ‘We’re going to have to take shifts watching her,’ he explains, but his attention is soon drawn to King Charles, who is now sitting up with Charlotte on his back. She clasps her hands about his neck, and starts rocking backwards and forwards. Suddenly Charlotte slides off the dog’s back, runs round and kisses it between its eyes, accidentally poking her finger in one of them.

  ‘Oh sorry, Charlie,’ the girl says affectionately, then gives Charlie’s ears a stroke as she takes off with a giggle.

  When Charlotte has finished playing with the dog, she comes over to Arkarian. Surprising me, she takes his hand without any sign of shyness. ‘Will you lead my pony, Gascon?’

  We go to the stableyard, where François has the pony saddled and ready. We are given instructions to take Charlotte to her favourite place – a waterfall near a bend in the river that runs through the Duke’s lands. As we walk, we keep an eye out for anything that looks suspicious.

  ‘We’re going to have to be very careful,’ Arkarian says softly. ‘I’ve been talking with a few servants. Apparently there have been no new members to the household recently, or for the last few months, so the Order hasn’t made an appearance yet. And I’m starting to get the feeling they’re waiting for a specific reason before showing themselves – like our arrival.’

  ‘Do you think they’re after us, and not the child?’

  ‘If they’re not after the child, then you know what this is, don’t you?’

  It hits me, and a shiver passes from my head straight down to my toes. ‘A trap?’

  ‘It’s possible.’

  ‘Oh great!’ Words fail me for a moment, giving my brain time to think. I drop my voice to a whisper. ‘You were only switched with Ethan at the last minute. So if the Order have finally figured out who Ethan is, they’re probably expecting him to be on this mission instead of you.’

  ‘Well – ’

  ‘This is a trap to kill Ethan!’

  ‘Look, we can’t jump to conclusions. Not yet. There could be other reasons Lorian substituted me in Ethan’s place. But I have to wonder why not Shaun or Marcus?’

  To me the answer is easy: Lorian has a great belief in Arkarian’s ability. But I don’t air my thoughts. Arkarian would only deny it. While he is by far the most talented, powerful member of the Guard, he would never acknowledge it. ‘So do you think Charlotte is safe after all?’

  ‘We can’t take anything for granted. Who knows the mind of an immortal?’

  ‘Well, it’s been a year since Marduke’s murder. The Goddess’s patience must be exhausted by now.’

  ‘Yes, which means she may act out of character. That’s why we must be prepared for anything.’

  Chapter Six

  Arkarian

  By the end of the ride Isabel has formed a strong bond with the child. It’s an easy thing to do. I feel myself doing the same. And that’s something I’ve managed to avoid for almost six hundred years. It’s just that Charlotte is well mannered and kind and so trusting. Many times she is close to tears.

  After dinner with the Duke and Lady Eleanor, Charlotte insists that I must tell her another story. It’s unheard of for a mere stable-hand to be invited inside, but the Duke finally agrees. I think he is relieved to see his daughter smiling again.

  With King Charles beside them, Isabel and Charlotte curl up by the hearth. As Charlotte cuddles the dog, Isabel whispers, ‘You know, it wouldn’t hurt for her aunt to be a bit kinder. That woman doesn’t come across as the loving mother type.’

  I have to agree, and while I can’t find much in history on Charlotte, I did discover that Lady Eleanor will one day become the mistress of this very castle, marrying the Duke and taking the title of Duchess. But I’m reluctant to let Isabel know. She would hate the thought of Lady Eleanor becoming Charlotte’s stepmother. Forming attachments to those we help is strictly forbidden. This is an essential rule. It’s quite easy to develop friendships, and difficulties in letting go have caused serious situations for members of the Guard before. That was the catalyst for all our problems with Marduke. Thirteen years ago he changed the past by trying to stop the woman he fell in love with from catching the plague. His partner was Ethan’s father Shaun. Shaun tried to stop him. They fought and Marduke suffered severe facial injuries.

  ‘The only reason that woman would want a child for herself would be to secure an inheritance,’ Isabel concludes.

  Charlotte stirs, murmuring fo
r another story, and Isabel lets the matter drop. She strokes the girl’s forehead. ‘Patience, Charlotte. Here, wait.’ Isabel moves around on the rug, positioning Charlotte’s head in her lap. ‘Is that comfortable?’

  Charlotte nods, then looks up at me. ‘Hurry, Gascon. You must tell me a story before I fall asleep. You have so many! And my eyes are getting heavy.’

  Even with heavy eyes, it takes the telling of three long stories – myths from ancient Greece and Macedonia – before Charlotte’s soulful blue eyes finally close in sleep.

  Isabel continues stroking the girl’s forehead. ‘Should we carry her to bed?’

  Through the connecting doorway, I glance into her room, and wonder what the Order have in mind regarding this child. Has the portal to this time period been opened solely to draw Ethan out? It can only open for a short period, and only ever once. No one can return to the exact time twice. Or is there a genuine threat to Charlotte’s well-being? It would be a mistake to underestimate the enemy. And from what I saw earlier of the child’s own bedroom – narrow windows with heavy drapes, closet doors, wardrobes and wooden chests – there are plenty of hiding places should someone suddenly appear. ‘Why don’t we leave Charlotte here where we can keep a close eye on her? It’s warm by the fire.’

  Agreeing, Isabel makes Charlotte comfortable with some pillows. King Charles nestles in beside her, his head on his paws, his eyes slowly closing.

  The two of us go and sit against the foot of the four-poster bed, and after a while Isabel sighs and yawns. Without realising it, she sags against my shoulder. After this long day, she’s completely exhausted. Looking across at Charlotte, she comments softly, ‘She looks so innocent.’

  ‘As only a child can.’

  ‘Why would anyone want to harm her?’ She shivers suddenly.